Chapter 2
A week later, settled back home in Newcastle, the Benidorm trip already seems like a world away. The Sinfonia tour starts tomorrow. I have spent days shopping for gowns to wear on stage. My credit card is groaning under the weight of the expense.
Liam, snaps me from my thoughts. ‘Connie, love. You’ve got that haunted look again. Can you stop thinking about Matteo for two minutes while we get through this rehearsal? I’m sure there’s a good reason why he hasn’t called yet today. He’s like nine hours behind or something. Besides, Ged and I are in the middle of some very important couples’ vision-boarding for our wedding, and he’s waiting for me to decide on what colour horses we want. Coral or sage green. And we’re trying to decide on whether to get a kitten or a new airfryer.’
‘Yes. Sure. Sorry. I’ll start again. From the top,’ I say, restarting the backing music as I open my mouth to sing. Now that he’s mentioned Matteo not ringing, he’s given me something else to worry about.
‘Louder, babe. From the heart,’ Liam says as though he’s directing me in a Netflix movie. ‘Let the audience get their hands on a piece of the real you. Not the wooden you. You’re not half tree. I’m thinking use your arms more. Wave them around as if you’re juggling very slowly. That’s what all these opera singers seem to do. Just try to relax.’
Relax?
‘Two thousand sceptical opera-lovers are turning out to see who the Sinfonia have replaced their much-loved singer with,’ I say nervously. ‘You try being relaxed about it.’
Liam raises an eyebrow at me. ‘Imagine you’re floating in the clouds on a magical, singing breeze,’ Liam says, waving his wand. ‘Your voice is like a gust of wind wafting through the audience, light and ethereal.’
I try again but my throat sounds dry and scratchy. All the excessive drinking, people everywhere smoking, and me, bawling my eyes out unnecessarily on numerous occasions in Benidorm has taken its toll.
The living room door opens. ‘Are we role-playing?’ says Ged, eyeing Liam’s wand and cape playfully. He flicks his gaze over to me. ‘If so, I’d like to play the part of customer demanding a full refund.’
‘Very funny,’ I say, smoothing down the tight bodice of my gown. I ruffle out the heavy, velvet, ruched skirt to hide my bare feet. It feels like I’m wearing my own bodyweight in silk taffeta and sequins.
Ged blows me a kiss before turning to his fiancé. ‘Liam, darling, is that my dragon’s heartstring wand you are using as a baton? Because you know it’ll only work if you wear the Sorting Hat, don’t you?’
They exchange a mischievous look. They are opposites but they make an ideal couple. Ged is in the music business but can be very sane and sensible at times. Liam is a music teacher with a tendency to be outrageous and flamboyant. And while Ged stacks a dishwasher with the precision of a Swedish architect, Liam throws them in like an ape on crystal meth, but I’d trust them both with my life.
‘I’m so nervous,’ I say, flustered. ‘I’ve had to learn a lot of songs very quickly. My vocal range might not be up to the job. The Maestro is supposed to be one of the most demanding in the whole of Europe. The audience will have unbearably high expectations. And never mind trying to fit into these ridiculous theatrical costumes.’
They look at one another as though I’m being melodramatic. Which I am. I am TERRIFIED. My mother was an extremely successful opera singer. What if I can’t fill her shoes?
‘It’s about confidence,’ Liam says softly. He gives me a gentle, reassuring look. ‘You’ve got this, Connie Cooper. You have nothing to worry about, my lovely.’
‘Thanks.’ I smile, grateful for the reassurance, but it’s like telling water not to be wet. At that moment, my phone bursts to life, causing me to drop it.
‘Connie, babe, you really must stop dropping your phone every single time Matteo calls,’ says Liam. ‘Surely, you can’t be that nervous around him?’
‘No,’ I say, scooping down to pick it up. ‘Of course not.’
I AM SO FECKIN EXCITED. Even though I keep obsessing about our relationship, and whether I’m merely his ‘rebound’ and not his ‘the one’. But more than that, our time together in Benidorm was so short, I’ve convinced myself it would be insane to expect him to commit to being exclusive with each other at such an early stage.
If only I were brave enough to ask him. But of course, that would cause any man to run screaming for the hills - like my last boyfriend did.
I jab at the phone, trying to press accept and accidentally reject the call. It immediately rings again. My fingers have turned to mush. This is so stressful. I take a beat. You’ve got this Connie Cooper. He’s just a man. A magnificent, dark-haired, broody-looking, multi-lingual over-achiever with the instincts of an MI5 special operative, the brains of a Nobel prize winner and the looks of a movie star. Why be nervous?
‘Oh, hi,’ I say, trying to sound light and casual – the sort who doesn’t sound on the edge of a substantial breakdown each time the very new love of her life phones her.
‘Did you drop your phone again?’ Matteo says with a hint of amusement in his voice. Thank God, he can’t see me. My face has gone full coal furnace.
‘No, no. I just… I mean, yes. The phone. It’s… slippery.’
Ged and Liam are shaking their heads at me. Unfortunately, they’ve had to witness this low-level deception more than once.
‘Slippery?’ Matteo asks.
‘So, how are things in LA?’ I say, anxious to change the subject.
Ged and Liam inch forward in their seats. They too, are intrigued to hear how things are going in LA.
‘I’m going to be working in the studio for the next week or so and might not get another chance to ring. How are you feeling about the Sinfonia tour?’ he asks. ‘I know you have some doubts about fitting in, but you’ll be great. I know you will.’ His comforting words immediately put me at ease.
We talk for an hour as I ask him all about LA and the artists he is working with. And he asks about my dad and how the hiking weekend at the Lakes has gone with his new girlfriend, Madge. It is a development that I am still trying to process.
‘Say hello to Ged and Liam for me,’ he says as our conversation draws to a close.
I glance over, smiling.
They are still on the sofa listening in, riveted. I really must entertain the idea of introducing them to a hobby. Crocheting hats or making their own vegan sausage or something. Liam fancies Matteo as much as I do because he is so ridiculously good-looking. Which is something I am absolutely not going to do (anymore), judge Matteo on his superior looks.
‘As soon as I’ve finished in the studio, I’m taking a few days off. Would you have time in your busy schedule to fly out to see me in Vegas?’ Matteo asks suddenly, causing me to instantly drop the phone again, cutting him off in the process.
Christ Almighty.
Ged swoops down to pick it up. He gives me a baffled look and calmly rings Matteo back, handing it over when he picks up.
Matteo is laughing. ‘So, is that a yes?’
Oh my life.Just the thought of seeing him again after weeks apart is knee-trembling.
‘Yes, she’d love to!’ yells Liam across the room.
And just like that, I’ve arranged to go and meet the absolute love of my life in Las Vegas.
Later that evening, the full reality of it all hits me, as I stand at the mantlepiece in our living room. I go over the plan once more in my head. I leave Newcastle tomorrow for a one-week tour with the Sinfonia. We are performing in three major cities in the North of England. First is Manchester, then York, then back to Newcastle. Immediately afterwards, I resume my residency at Voices in Benidorm. They are happy to be super flexible with me while I juggle all of my singing commitments. God, it sounds so exciting. I can barely believe it is me who I’m talking about.
I blow my cheeks out at the thought of the mammoth task ahead. I will need decent clothes for Las Vegas. Decent, fashionista-type attire. Not the elaborately bouffant gowns I’ll be wearing for the Sinfonia. Not the tiny, stripper, pole-dancing costumes The Dollz insist I wear in Benidorm as part of the ‘look’, and definitely not the dowdy wine-stained rags I’ve been moping around in for two years since my beloved mother passed away.
My mother.
My lovely, kind, funny, talented mother who I’ll never see ever again. I still can’t believe that I’ll be singing on the same stage as she did, with the same orchestra, wearing similar costumes and performing to the same audiences, but I’ll never ever get to hear her sing. Or see her. Or speak to her. Or hug her, ever again. And she’ll never get to see me up on stage. A wave of grief engulfs me from out of nowhere. I take a deep breath in and place my hand gently on my chest as it washes over me. Sadness, pain, panic, despair, dread. I close my eyes and let the images of my mother lying ill in a hospital bed fly around. I try to conjure up some nicer images from when we were younger. Before she got sick. Before our lives fell apart. But they’re not coming yet. My dad says they will come back to me over time. He says how much time it takes is different for everyone.
I feel like I’ve been waiting around in a numb haze forever. But at least, thanks to The Dollz and Matteo coming unexpectedly into my life, I have started feeling emotions again. I am no longer the empty husk that I’ve been for two years. Just the thought of Matteo creates a warm feeling deep within. I focus on his kind eyes and the smile that lights up his entire face. It seeps through my bones like an elixir, helping the fear and dread recede until I feel back to normal.
I open my eyes at the sound of the door creaking.
‘So, we’ve had a long talk about it,’ says Liam, coming into the living room with two glasses of wine in his hands. He gives me one. I’d take a guess at what they’re talking about, but really, it could be anything from creamed asparagus to a colonic steam.
‘We’re celebrating again?’ I ask. I shouldn’t be surprised. Last night we stayed up until two in the morning celebrating their one-month-a-versary as a newly engaged couple. At this rate, I’m going to turn up to the Sinfonia tomorrow looking like I spent the night sleeping rough under a bridge.
‘Our pre-moon spree will be held…’ Liam says, drum rolling his hands on the sofa to mine the reveal for all the drama he can get.
It must be somewhere super exotic. Thailand. Fiji. Maybe it is one of those ultra-high, super-expensive jobbies in Dubai. They have sparkles coming out of their eyes. They have also been to the dentist for some extra-bright whitening treatment. I’m dazzled.
They look at each other triumphantly.
‘In Las Vegas!’ they yell in unison.
Oh, shit.
‘The most romantic place on Earth. The city where dreams are made. The city of love. And gay rights,’ Liam sighs lovingly at Ged. I avert my gaze while they take a moment to stare into each other’s eyes and clasp hands melodramatically.
‘Lovely. So lovely.’ I have a smile plastered on my face. ‘When exactly?’
I know when. Why am I bloody bothering?
They turn their huge, excited eyes towards me as though I’ll never, in a million years, guess.
‘In two weeks!’ they say in unison.
Gah!
‘As in roughly the same time as I’ll be going to visit Matteo?’
‘YES!’ Ged shouts. ‘Isn’t it bloody marvellous? You’ll be there anyway, so you may as well do best woman duties. It’ll be like killing two birds with one stone. And, it’ll save you a fortune on the flights.’
So much for their anti-animal cruelty stance but I do appreciate them thinking of my poor finances.
I watch them jump up and down hugging each other. It is quite the conundrum. Of course, I am excited for them. That goes without saying. But why, when I have not yet spent more than two nights with Matteo, and we are still very much finding our feet with each other, do they think muscling in on my week of carnal passion is a good idea?
‘And you’ve given Dubai some thought too, have you?’ I ask.
They nod.
‘And the Maldives? Diving with turtles? Or what about a Caribbean Disney cruise?’
Ged is folding his arms. I must tread very carefully. Liam has also begun to raise an eyebrow.
Oh God, what will Matteo think?
‘Las Vegas will be perfect. So perfect,’ I backtrack.
‘Well, Matteo did invite us. And we thought as best woman it’d be easier for you to organise all the activities. Because he can pull a few strings. Get us a few celebrity meet ’n’ greets?’
I couldn’t even organise my way to the local shop this morning. It was my turn to nip out for full-fat milk to steam in our awesome coffee machine that you need a degree to operate. I was daydreaming about the last time Matteo kissed me, and before I knew it, ducks were quacking, and I’d arrived at the park. Four miles in the opposite direction. And as for Matteo pulling a few strings… I wouldn’t dream of asking him. But if I’m being picky, their invite from Matteo was to LA not to Las Vegas.
I spend the next half an hour listening to them excitedly list a range of must-do activities and must-see shows for me to organise, while we toast their good health, wealth and happiness. I have no idea how I’m going to balance my romantic break with such an extravagant week or how I’m going to afford it. Thankfully, my phone rings.
‘Will you be needing a room in the hotel? It might not have an ensuite though, and you will definitely have to share a room with Cherry. Or Liberty.’
It’s Tash. As usual, she is carrying on a conversation as though we have been talking it through for hours.
‘Hotel? Where? Benidorm?’ Maybe Tash has forgotten that I have a room of my own above Voices.
‘Vegas, babes. Where else?’
My heart has stopped. I wait for it to restart. It has forgotten that it is supposed to thump blood regularly to my brain. My brain that is playing cruel tricks on me.
‘Vegas?’ I gulp. ‘As in Las Vegas? In America?’
‘Yes. Nancy needs to know if you’re staying with us. For tax and visa purposes. She’s putting it all on expenses.’
Oh, my God. What is happening?
‘How did you know I was going to Vegas?’
I’ve literally just got off the phone with Matteo an hour ago. I haven’t even told my dad that I’m going.
All is revealed.
‘Ged just posted that you were all going to Las Vegas on their pre-menstrual spree thingy,’ Tash says.
‘Has he?’ I say tentatively.
‘And obviously, they invited us but we’re all too skint. Cherry is almost a single mother. Liberty has discovered vampire facials. Big Sue and Big Mand are worried about our carbon footprint, so combining work with pleasure ticks a box for all of us.’
I’m still not following but make a mental note to check up on Cherry.
‘So, I rang Nancy and she’s arranged for us to do a couple of gigs while we’re there.’
Why would Tash do that? Nancy, our agent, is not to be messed with. Once bookings are made, they are set in stone.
‘We told her you’d be bang up for it, but Nancy just needs you to confirm first. It means our flights, food, accommodation would all be free. Otherwise, none of us could afford to go.’ She mistakes my silence for being overjoyed.
Tash squeals with excitement. She has no idea that she’s ruining my big special romantic week. Instead of bonking and in a general loved-up haze, I’ll now be working. I’ll be singing in clubs while trying to keep up with The Dollz, the world’s heaviest-drinking chain-smokers. And in between, I have the world’s most elaborate pre-moon to organise and execute.
Deep fucking breaths.
‘Thanks Tash. That’s really good of you… and Nancy.’ My voice sounds distant, as though I am on a sort of polite automatic pilot. ‘But I was hoping to see Matteo that week. I haven’t got time to do gigs as well as the pre-moon for Ged and Liam.’
‘And you will see him, Connie, babes. You will. But what’s the alternative? None of us get to share Ged and Liam’s big week? They’ll be gutted.’ Tash lets the silence hang between us for a moment before continuing.
What a guilt trip. How can I say no?
‘Okay. But only if the gigs don’t get in the way of me spending time with Matteo,’ I say reluctantly.
Tash whoops eagerly. ‘Yay! It’s going to be savage. I’ll tell Nancy you’ve confirmed.’
Savage. Oh. My. God. Now, I have even less time to prepare myself for the Las Vegas trip. And even though I could really do with the extra money, I could really do without the extra pressure.
My spirits plummet at the thought of what might lie ahead. I will have to make sure I get some time with Matteo alone. Before it all turns savage. I will just have to be firm with everyone and learn to say no.
‘All The Dollz are proper buzzing. I’ll ask Nancy if the gigs are slutty or more show girl upmarket. We might need some of those giant feathers and swinging nipple tassels.’
This is getting worse by the second.
‘Either way, it’s going to be one hell of a messy one. We can’t wait.’
Sweet Jesus.
‘Anyway, gotta bounce, babes. Good luck with that snobby lot on tour. You’ll need it.’
Oh, my fucking word.